


The Places Where Wishes Don't Go

by SomeoneAsGoodAsYou (the_wanlorn)



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Cuddles, F/M, Lucifer Needs a Hug, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Post-Season/Series 04, Sleeping Together, but like, sleeping-sleeping, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22287946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wanlorn/pseuds/SomeoneAsGoodAsYou
Summary: Lucifer's back.Lucifer's also not sleeping.Are these two facts related? Chloe's determined to find out.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 150
Kudos: 622





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is done! And mostly edited. I haven't really decided on a posting schedule yet because psh who needs those until after you post the first chapter??? But it's either going to be daily or weekly. So definitely subscribe because who knows which I am going to pick; certainly not me.

"Lucifer?" Chloe asked, her voice trembling, as she held onto the door jamb; it was the only thing holding her up.

The man in front of her was wrecked. It was the only word she could think of to describe him. Utterly wrecked. He was pale and his eyes were dark hollows and there was a light tremble to his hands. He was wild eyed for a moment before he seemed to focus on her and then he was drinking in the sight of her like a man dying in the desert.

She had dreams like this, every so often. Lucifer, showing up out of the blue, to tell her that he had fixed things so they could be together. Or a knock on the door and when she opened it, he was standing there looking like he'd never left. Dreams were he fought and bled and tore his way back to her. She had never expected it to happen in real life, had never dared allow herself to hope.

"Please be real," she breathed out, but couldn't make herself let go of the door jamb to reach out and touch him.

His mouth worked, and after a moment of silence that stretched out far too long, he rasped, "That's a favor I can grant for free, Detective."

She laughed, and then she started to cry.

Lucifer looked panicked for a moment, his hands fluttering like he didn't know what to do. But when she took a halting step forward, he was there to meet her. And when she wrapped her arms around him, he enfolded her in a tight hug, his face buried in her hair deep enough that she could feel it when tears started dripping from his eyes.

His shoulders were shaking with the force of his silent sobs, and hers weren't much better. It wasn't until she realized the neighbors were probably watching that she managed to pull away from him the slightest bit. The whining sound he made, abruptly cut off almost before it could begin, had her heart breaking.

"Inside," she said, sliding her hand down his arm to tangle her fingers with his. "Come inside."

He followed her, close on her heels, his grip on her hand tight like he was afraid she, herself, was a dream. Once they were inside and the door closed, she turned to him and tucked herself against his body, still clutching his hand in hers, not willing to let go.

She could feel him shaking against her as he wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her even closer, burying his face in her hair again but staying silent. That was okay; she would take silence. She would take anything she could get from him.

"Where's the urchin?" he rasped after a while of just standing there, holding each other. He was tense in her arms, but when she went to let go he just held her tighter with a barely audible, "please."

"She's with Dan," she said, settling against him and rubbing her hand up and down his back until he started to relax. "She'll be home tomorrow night."

He made a noise, somewhere between acknowledgment and a sob, and even that sounded rough. So she pulled back—just enough to force him to look at her, just enough to make it so she could see his face—but the broken sound he let out before visibly biting down on it hard had her regretting it.

So she quickly asked, "Do you need a drink, some food?"

She didn't want to let him go, and she would have to if he wanted either of those things. But it sounded like it hurt to talk, his voice ragged and dry, and she didn't want him hurting anymore. She didn't know what had happened while he'd been in Hell, but she knew it had to have been bad. It was Hell, after all.

"Just you," he said before loosening his grip and wobbling a little. He grimaced and closed his eyes—red-rimmed and still wet with tears—for a moment.

"Come sit down," she said and reluctantly took a step back, still not letting go of his hand. It wasn't that she was worried he'd disappear if she did, because that was ridiculous. Just...

He didn't look any happier to have her step away than she felt doing it. She led him to the couch, which he fairly collapsed onto, almost pulling her down on top of him. She understood the need to be close, to be able to _feel_ that he was there. Her eyes had started welling with tears again as she stood there, taking him in.

The worst part was, beyond the general air of haggard exhaustion, he didn't look much different. His suit was maybe more worn than she was used to seeing, but the rest of him... If she hadn't known better, she'd think he had just had a particularly rough night. Not that he'd been in Hell for-

"How long was it?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer. Her bottom lip was trembling, but she couldn't seem to stop it. "It's been two years. How long-"

He shook his head, and that told her everything. The tears spilled over again and she turned, sinking to sit next to him, letting go of his hand only to lean into him. He was still and stiff for a moment before he wrapped her in one arm, pulling her closer to him. She let one arm fall around his stomach, her fingers probably gripping too tight but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"I missed you," she said quietly, trying to stifle the sob that wanted to follow. "So much."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I should have-"

She shook her head and rested her fingers over his lips. "Don't. Just- Don't."

He nodded and she dropped her hand. His eyes were so tired, she almost wanted to ask him to come to bed with her. It was too early to sleep, though, and he surely had other things he wanted to check on. He had come to her first—she knew he had come to her first—but that didn't mean she was the only thing he needed. Or wanted.

When she looked up at him, he was looking down at her with such a sad expression that her breath caught in her throat. He was looking at her like he was going to have to say goodbye again, and she didn't know if she could handle that.

"What?" she asked. "What is it?"

He shook is head, though. "Nothing. Nothing you need worry about."

"Lucifer..." she said, biting her lip, her breath hitching on a quiet sob. "What's wrong?"

"I've missed you terribly, darling," he said and reached out to tuck away a bit of hair that had escaped her pony tail. "That's all."

She wasn't sure she was convinced. "Are- Are you leaving again?"

Thankfully, he shook his head firmly at that, and said, his voice so soft she could have missed it were the whole of her not focused on him, "I'll stay forever if only you'll let me."

"Of course," she said, reaching up and cupping his cheek with one hand, thumb sweeping across his cheekbone. "Anything."

"A dangerous thing to grant the Devil," he told her. His eyes were bright with tears again, so she moved her hand higher, letting her thumb swipe under his eyes to catch them as they fell.

" _Anything_ ," she repeated, and she meant it. She would give—would do—anything to keep him for as long as she could. If it meant something, if vows weren't breakable like glass, she would marry him on the spot, just to be sure. But she, more than anyone, knew how flimsy a marriage bond could be. And she, more than anyone, knew that it wouldn't mean anything to him.

He smiled at that, a small, tremulous thing, like he didn't quite believe what she was saying but appreciated the effort. She didn't think there was anything she could say to convince him, not in the moment, so she let her head rest against his shoulder again, holding him tight. He brought his other arm around hugging her to him, and she squirmed a little to get comfortable, but he immediately dropped his arm, his fist clenching on his thigh.

"No, no," she said, taking his hand and carefully, gently uncurling his fingers until she could bring it back to her. "Just getting comfortable. Please..."

The sigh he let out was a release of tension so great she thought he was going to deflate entirely with it. He hugged her to him again, and dropped his head down to rest on top of hers. He was trembling, she realized, but there was nothing she could do for him besides hold him tighter and whisper that it was okay, everything was going to be okay.

They stayed like that until it was dark outside and Chloe's stomach started to growl. With great reluctance, she sat up slightly, pulling the tiniest bit away from him and feeling guilty when he let out a cut off whimper. She wanted to stay there forever, but she was hungry and had work the next day and if she stayed for one second longer she was going to do something rash, like ask if he would stay with her there, in her house, forever.

"I need to make dinner," she said quietly, sighing with regret when he let her up and wishing he had maybe been more reluctant to let her go.

"I can-" he said, but she shook her head before he even offered.

"You look exhausted," she said with a half smile. "You should rest."

He frowned a little and trailed her to the kitchen, hovering near her while she put together a quick meal. She offered him some, but he declined with a sigh, checking the time.

"I-" A grimace passed over his face, there and gone almost before she could catch it. "I should check on Lux."

"Maze kept it running while you- In your absence," she said, biting back a plea for him not to go, to stay with her.

Silence grew between them before Lucifer nodded once, sharply, and turned on his heel. "I'll..."

She waited for him to finish with something reassuring, with telling her he'd be back, or he'd see her soon or _something_. But instead, he just shook his head a little before turning back to her, kissing her so swiftly she didn't have time to react, and disappearing out the door.

* * *

Her phone was buzzing. It was sometime either very early or very late, judging by how groggy she was, and her phone was buzzing. She had gone to bed early, not wanting to feel the unpleasant sensation of loss that having Lucifer _back_ but not with her was causing. She shouldn't have let him go and talked herself out of calling him more than once before going to bed.

She flailed a bit to find it and answered with a sleepy and impatient, "'Lo? Dan?"

It wasn't Dan calling her about Trixie. There was a pause on the other side, then a great gulp of air, breath catching in the middle. She was immediately awake and alert, bringing the phone away from her ear just enough to check the phone number. Not one she recognized or was in her contacts.

"Detective?" she heard as she brought it back to her ear. Lucifer's voice was wavering, like Trixie's did when she woke up from a nightmare.

"Yeah," she said soothingly, every instinct in her telling her to get in the car and go to him. But if he wanted that—if he needed that—he would tell her, wouldn't he? "I'm here, it's okay, it's alright."

He took in another deep, shuddering breath while she murmured soothing nonsense to him as she relaxed back against her pillows. It was close to three in the morning when she checked, and her heart clenched. She almost offered to go to Lux, or told him to come to her. But before she could, he was apologizing.

"Apologies, Detective," he said. She could hear him swallow, his throat clicking. "I didn't mean to wake you. I just... needed to hear your voice. Sorry for the bother, I'll-"

"Hey, no," she said. "I don't mind. Nightmare?"

Another shuddering breath. "Something of the sort."

She hummed in acknowledgment and sympathy. "Do you want me to come over?"

"No, that's alright," he said and she could almost see him shaking his head at her with a fond smile. "It was just a silly dream. I'm a big Devil, you needn't worry about me."

She laughed at that. "Well I'm going to worry about you anyway, hope you don't mind."

There was silence on the other end, long enough for her to worry that she had said something wrong, that maybe he was trying to find a way to tell her that he didn't feel the same way about her anymore. That he didn't want her worry and care anymore. Her heart was in her throat when he finally answered.

"Thank you," he said, his voice soft and something close to awe in it. "I- Thank you. And I'm sorry for waking you. I should let you get your rest."

"I don't mind," she said again.

He didn't sound like he wanted to get off the phone, his words hesitant and his voice noticeably without anything indicating he wanted to get back to sleep. He thought he should stop bothering her, she knew, but she didn't think he wanted to. Her heart was calming at that, and she let the worry that he didn't want her slip away. She could worry about it some other time. For now, she could try to distract him.

"I have to work tomorrow," she continued, laying back down and getting comfortable. She was able to prop the phone up by her ear with her pillow, so she closed her eyes and snuggled into her blankets, imagining he was there with her. "Do you want to come?"

"I'd like that very much," he said, his voice warm and tinged with what she hoped wasn't relief. There was no need for him to feel relieved, of course she wanted him at work with her. Of course she didn't want to let him out of her sight. She had lost him for so long, and now that she had him back, of course she was afraid he would disappear if she left him for too long.

"Good," she said with a yarn. "Ella and everyone missed you. I told them you had to leave the country, but she still asks about you every so often."

He made a sound to indicate he was listening, but now he sounded as tired as she felt. She searched her brain for all the little things she had wanted to tell him over the years he was gone, everything she hadn't been able to, and started talking to him until her words became slower and slower, time between sentences drawing out as she slowly fell asleep to the sound of his breathing and quiet huffs of laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daily it is!! Y'all are very convincing.

When Chloe woke up, still feeling groggy and now with a rectangular mark on her face from her phone, Lucifer had ended the call. She checked the log and really, really hoped he had fallen asleep too and woken up just enough a couple hours later to hang up. At the same time, the idea of him laying there, listening to her breathe—or snore, as it were—had something warm and soft turning over in her stomach. She just... she loved him so much.

She didn't know if he wanted to meet her at the station or come to her house first, and she could only guess at how incredibly long it took him to get ready in the mornings, so she hit redial.

"Detective!" Lucifer answered on the first ring. "I trust you slept well?"

"I did," she said, stretching until her back popped and she felt more awake. "I hope you did too."

He made a noncommittal noise at that, a quiet hum that had her stomach dropping a little. He had looked like he needed the rest, and it made her hurt for him that he wasn't getting it. But she knew how hard it was, sometimes, to get back to sleep after a nightmare, and the one he had must have been a doozy if he'd called her.

"Do you still want to come in today? You could sleep more," she said as she pushed herself up and out of bed.

"No, I-" He took a deep breath. "I want to see you," he admitted quietly, and added an almost inaudible, "Please?" at the end that she wasn't sure if she was even supposed to hear.

"Of course," she said, her heart clenching. Didn't he know? She always wanted to see him, and the past two years had been awful. A well of grief that she thought would never be dry. If she could have, she would have had him stay the night before. If she could have, she would never let him go again.

"I'll see you at the station, then," he said, and she couldn't read his tone of voice. Was that reluctance she was hearing? She couldn't be sure. All she knew was that she was disappointed he hadn't invited himself over for breakfast.

"Okay," she said softly. "I'll see you then. I-" To tell him she loved him was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't quite manage it, the words instead getting stuck somewhere between her tongue and her lips.

"Right then," he said after the silence grew too long and she couldn't bring herself to fill it. "I'll let you get to it."

And then he hung up. She stared at the phone for a moment before putting it down. There were so many things she wanted to say to him—so many things she wanted to _do_ to him—that she wasn't sure was okay anymore. She'd talked to Amenadiel about Hell in those first, awful months. He was reluctant, always, but did tell her enough to know that time moved different there. That just because it had been a month, two months, six endless months here didn't mean the same was true of there.

At the time, she'd thought—hoped—that meant time moved slower. That Lucifer hadn't had to feel the same awful emptiness for as long as her. She hadn't asked for clarification, fearing Amenadiel's answer. But now, having seen Lucifer, she couldn't help but think she had been so very wrong, and of course it was the opposite. It was Hell.

She rushed through her morning, as though getting to the station sooner meant she would get to see Lucifer sooner, even though she knew him and knew he probably wouldn't be there on time, never mind early. Still, she couldn't stop herself from hurying through her shower and throwing on the first clothes she saw, from staring impatiently at the toaster and maybe speeding, just a little, on her way in.

She didn't expect to see him, but could hardly contain her delight when she saw his car in the lot and him in it. He saw her as she parked near him and lifted his hand in greeting before getting out and sauntering over to her.

"Detective," he said, a smile on his face that couldn't quite be called a smirk but was close enough to his usual self to make her grin back. But the smile didn't reach his eyes and he looked, if anything, more haggard than he had last night.

"Are you okay?" she asked, pulling him into a tight hug like she hadn't seen him the day before. He folded his arms around her and buried his face in her hair for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"I am now," he murmured, and she shivered at the feeling of his breath ghosting over her ear.

"Come on," she said, reluctantly stepping away. "Ella's going to be so excited that you're here. Hope you're prepared to be hugged within an inch of your life."

"I've had some practice since yesterday," he said and she elbowed him gently, unable to stop smiling long enough to pretend to be cross at him. He was smiling too, something she might call soppy if it hadn't been directed at her. As it was, she loved it, her own smile softening into something that probably looked similar.

Ella was, in fact, ecstatic to see Lucifer. Her scream probably could have been heard two neighborhoods over, and she did hug him within an inch of his life. At first, he looked just as uncomfortable as usual. But then he seemed to square his jaw, looking resolute, and hugged her back.

"We all missed you, dude," she said when she finally let go of him. "Where have you been?"

"Hell," he said shortly, and Chloe grimaced, wondering if she needed to usher him out or if-

"Visiting family then? I get you; it can be rough."

Ella stepped away as Chloe stepped closer to his side, offering support as much as she could without being unprofessional. A shockingly large part of her was thinking that unprofessional sounded good at the moment and maybe if she could just hold his hand...

"How come you didn't call?" Ella asked, frowning. "Chloe said where you were didn't have reception but-"

"I would have if I could," he said. "But there are no phones in Hell, no way to contact the upper side."

She shook her head, grinning. "Always with the method acting. It's great that you're back. Don't disappear again, okay?"

"I'll do my best," he said, making Chloe's breath catch in her throat for a moment. That didn't sound promising. That sounded like he might have to go back to Hell and that-

That wasn't okay with her. But they could talk about it later. Professional. She was professional and was not going to start crying in the middle of the station.

The smile slowly slid off Ella's face as she studied Lucifer. "Hey, you're not looking so good. Are you alright?"

"Never better," he said, sliding a glance Chloe's way. She smiled at him while Ella cooed over them like they were the cutest thing she'd ever seen. "Never better."

Her heart sank a little as they got to her desk and she remembered she didn't have an active case at the moment. She just had paperwork to wrap up, and she knew how Lucifer felt about that. Surely he would disappear to make his way around the station and meet the new people and greet the old as soon as he realized what she was doing.

She berated herself internally for being clingy. She didn't want to drive him away and she didn't want to turn into one of _those_ girlfriends. If- If she was even- They hadn't talked about it and she shouldn't assume. It had been-

"See something you like, Detective?"

She started, realizing she'd been staring at him as he sat across from her for a while. He was smiling at her, something that could have been smug if it wasn't tinged with so much fondness and pure happiness. She studied his face for a moment longer; he looked...

"You look tired," she said bluntly, but he waved it off. "Are you sure you don't want to go home?"

"It'll pass. There's nowhere I'd rather be than with you," he said, his voice low.

She could feel a blush rising to her cheeks as she dropped her eyes to her desk, not seeing the keyboard in front of her, and she could feel a small, dreamy smile spreading across her face.

The work day was filled with people welcoming Lucifer back and him charming the Lieutenant into letting him come back to work as a consultant with Chloe. Even Dan welcomed him back, and no one besides Ella seemed to notice how run-down he looked.

Lucifer spent the day near her desk, which meant a steady stream of people flowed by her as they were drawn to him. It wasn't great for her concentration, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

At their cars, at the end of the day, she hesitated and saw he was doing the same. She wondered if he was waiting for her to kiss him goodbye, but quickly dismissed the thought. This was Lucifer. If he wanted a kiss from her, he would kiss her. He had never been shy.

"Would it be alright if I followed you home?" he burst out with before wincing and fidgeting with his shirt cuffs.

She stared at him for a moment before saying, her voice rough, "Of course. You're always welcome to- Of course, Lucifer."

He smiled at that, a small, tremulous thing filled with relief. She stepped forward, reaching for him, and he let her pull him to her. She watched him silently, head tilted back, before reaching up to smooth away the worry line from his forehead. He made a small, pleased noise at that, so she let her fingers trace down the side of his face and over his cheekbone before drawing his head down and pressing her lips to his.

It wasn't an electric kiss. There was some passion behind it—there couldn't not be with Lucifer involved—but it was still mostly reassurance, and relief, and a feeling of coming home after a long time away. She let out a soft, quiet sigh, her hands coming to rest on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

Their lips moved together, softly and gently, until it felt like they were melting together, becoming one being, her soul in his hands and his in hers. When she finally pulled back just enough to talk, letting her nose slide against his, he whimpered with loss.

"See you at home?" she asked, resisting the urge to kiss him again. She needed to get home before Dan dropped Trixie off and she couldn't do that if she stood by her car, kissing Lucifer for the rest of time.

"Yes, I'll- Yes," he said, sounding slightly dazed.

She slipped away from him and got in her car. When she glanced to him as she was pulling out, he was still standing there, one hand raised and pressing his fingers against his lips. She smiled and brought her fingers to her own lips, still tingling from his touch. A warm glow seemed to fill her as she drove, a feel of contentment washing over her deeper than she'd ever felt before.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omfg I'm so sorry you guys; last night was a doozy and I forgot to post a chapter. As penance, have a double large chapter.

Lucifer was waiting for her when she made it back to the house. She rolled her eyes at how many traffic laws he must have broken to get there ahead of her but couldn't stop the fond smile from growing on her face.

Before she could get out of the car, he was there, opening the door for her like she was some fairytale princess exiting a coach. She took his hand when he held it out, a faint blush to her cheeks even as she raised her eyebrows, and let him help her out of the car. He had an intense look on his face as he watched her, smiling slightly, which only made her blush deepen. He'd been back for two days and she already felt like she didn't know what she would do if he went away again.

"Are you staying for dinner?" she asked as they walked hand-in-hand to the front door. She caught his startled glance out of the corner of her eye and turned to face him as the door swung shut behind them. "I just meant because Trixie's going to be here."

"Ah," he said. "If it's alright, I'd like to stay."

Something in her loosened, and she smiled and rewarded him with a quick peck on the cheek. She let go of his hand reluctantly and went to the kitchen sink to wash up, Lucifer trailing behind her. She could feel the heat of him against her back as she soaped up her hands, and cautiously leaned back, just enough that her back was resting lightly against his front. The sigh he let out was full of relief, like a man thirsting in a desert.

"Is pasta okay?" she asked as he gently wrapped his arms around her middle and pressed a kiss to her hair. She turned to catch the second kiss with her lips, They stood like that for a moment, her with soapy hands and him holding her to him, a chaste kiss shared between them that seemed to last forever and not long enough all at the same time.

"Pasta sounds lovely," he said after she pulled back a little to finish at the sink. "Why don't I make a sauce, darling. It's the least I can do."

She turned in his embrace after quickly drying her hands and wrapped her arms around his neck. She brushed her nose along his, contact for the sake of contact, and dropped a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth when he shuddered and clutched at her tighter.

"That sounds lovely," she said and regretfully stepped away to go the cupboard.

He stood there for a moment, looking so lost she almost went back to him. But he seemed to recover, shaking himself and smiling so softly at her she wanted to cry. She didn't want to imagine him in Hell, didn't want to think about him down there and not because she couldn't stand the thought of him torturing souls. No, she didn't want to imagine the man before her—the one who had wept in her hair and clung to her so tightly—alone down there with no one for company but demons. She remembered what Maze was like when she first met her.

"Pots are there," she said, pointing, as his expression morphed into something of concern and he looked like he was about to ask her what was wrong. She doubted that her tremulous smile was fooling him, but he let her redirect attention away.

"I remember," he said with a wink, and it was true, he moved with an easy confidence around her kitchen, somehow staying within arms reach even as she threw together a quick salad and he chopped tomatoes and set the sauce to simmer.

It was like he couldn't bear to be more than a couple feet away from her, and a part of her warmed at that. When he checked the time, she didn't worry that he was trying to find a polite way to get away from her. She didn't worry that he didn't want to be there, not when he drifted to lean against the edge of the counter as she moved to the sink to clean up dishes.

"Daniel is dropping off Beatrice..." he said, drifting off before he formed a full question and glancing to the door.

"Probably within the half hour," she said, bumping her shoulder against his arm.

He seemed to slump at that, the stark relief in his features making her stop and stare at him. He couldn't be relieved that Trixie would be home soon... could he? Had he missed her while he was gone? Was something wrong? She opened her mouth to ask, only to be cut short when the door flew open.

"Lucifer!" Trixie yelled and ran forward, to hug him, with a speed that made Chloe's heart ache for the little girl she had been when she first met Lucifer. She was going to be a teenager soon, and Chloe could already see the oncoming storm of moodiness that would accompany those years. But sometimes, like now, she was still her little girl. Her little girl, who loved people with all her heart.

Lucifer's arms had gone up as soon as he saw her, as though that trying to avoid touching her, but that just made for an awkward hug. Trixie didn't seem to care and was squeezing him tightly.

"Yes, yes," he said and patted the top of her head. "There there."

For a second, Chloe wondered if Trixie had started crying, but when she turned her face up she was grinning, no tears in sight. It was just Lucifer, not knowing how to deal with open displays of affection. She was going to have to change that.

"Did your dad already leave?" she asked, directing Trixie to the table and then going over to put the spaghetti in to boil.

"Yeah," Trixie said, briefly sitting down before hopping up again and going to grab the backpack she had dropped by the door. When she turned around, she was frowning a little. "He saw Lucifer's car and said he didn't want to come in. I thought he wasn't mad at him anymore."

"Sometimes, when you think you're not mad at someone because they're gone, seeing them makes you mad all over again," Chloe told her. "Do you have homework?"

"That's dumb," Trixie said and brought her bag to the table. "Only a little bit. Can Lucifer play with me after dinner?"

"Maybe after your homework is done," Chloe said, trying not to smirk at Lucifer's wide-eyed look of fear and then resignation.

She'd leave it up to him to decide. He might want to go home straight after dinner to get some rest, if the pinched look to the corners of his eyes was any indication. Her stomach clenched a little at the thought. She wanted him to stay longer, to stay past Trixie's bedtime, to stay until it was time to sleep, to _stay_. She didn't know if she could ask that of him, though. Not wanting to go wasn't the same as wanting to stay, after all.

She sat next to him at the table after she served dinner, letting her knee rest against his while they ate. Trixie filled the meal with talk of what she'd done at school that day, getting sidetracked more than once with updating Lucifer on what had happened in her life since he left. He seemed to be engaged, but Chloe could see the lines at the corner of his eyes deepening as the meal went on.

"-and that's why I'm not friends with Alex anymore," Trixie was saying as she drew lines in the sauce on her empty plate with her fork.

Lucifer hummed an acknowledgment and said, "Well she sounds like a right dreadful little bugger."

Chloe caught Trixie mouthing the word "bugger" and pretended to frown at both of them. "That's an inside word, Trix."

"An inside word?" Lucifer asked as he casually rested his arm on the back of Chloe's chair, letting his fingers just barely brush her shoulder. She wanted to move closer, to have his touch press into her skin, not just drift teasingly as an edge of sensation.

"I'm not supposed to say those words outside the house," Trixie said with a sigh, like it was an impossible burden for her. Chloe couldn't help but smile at her dramatics.

She got up to start clearing the table, and Lucifer got up with her, picking up Trixie's plate as well as his own.

"Oh," Chloe said, reaching out with her free hand to touch his arm. "You don't have to do that."

"I don't mind," he said, bringing them over to the sink.

They made short work of the dishes while Trixie started her homework at the table. It was... strangely domestic. Perhaps even more strange by how comfortable it felt. Lucifer looked at home, standing next to her with his sleeves rolled up, passing her dishes to dry every so often. It made Chloe's heart ache for what they could've had, if he hadn't left.

No, if he hadn't _had_ to leave. It was an important distinction.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, and she realized she'd been standing there, staring at the plate in her hand, for an awfully long time.

"Oh, nothing," she said with a smile that she really, really hoped didn't look as fake as it felt.

She wasn't unhappy. There was a bubbling of warmth in her stomach that came just from being near him and an intense feeling of relief, like a heavy burden had been lifted the moment she opened the door. But she... she maybe resented a little that he had left her. She knew it was for her safety. For everyone's safety, but especially hers. And if he was back now, that meant the threat had been taken care of; that he'd found a way around the impossible situation he had found himself in.

But two years was a long time, and a part of her—a small, unreasonable part that she hated—wondered if he could have come back sooner. She _knew_ she was being unfair, and knew the feeling would fade with time, she she just gave him that fake smile and hoped he didn't notice.

Luck was not on her side, though, because his lips thinned and he stared at her for a long moment, hands held over the sink and dripping, eyes tight and unhappy.

"Really," she said, putting down the dish towel and reaching up to cup his cheek. "It's nothing. Why don't we go sit?"

She usually sat with Trixie while she did homework, but in that moment it looked like Lucifer needed her more. So she handed him a towel to dry his hands with and reached across him to turn off the water, letting her weight settle against him some. Then she led him to the couch and followed him down, sitting under his arm and snuggling up to his side.

"Trixie," she called. "You can come do your homework in here, and then we can watch a movie."

There. That was an activity they could do together that meant she could stay snuggled up to Lucifer as long as he would let her. Given the way he had relaxed against her, his fingers idly running up and down her bare arm, that would be for quite a while.

She only had to redirect Trixie to her homework a few times, and Lucifer turned out to be very helpful with math. It wasn't that Chloe couldn't do math, she just couldn't _explain_ it the way he did. When he saw her looking impressed, he shrugged a little, the tips of his ears turning pink.

"It's the language of the stars," he murmured to her when she tilted her head in question.

She had to kiss him at that, but managed to keep it to just a peck on the cheek. She couldn't imagine creating the stars and then being locked in Hell for an eternity. It was torture, pure and simple, and she found herself—not for the first time, not even close—furious with God.

Lucifer must have felt her tense, because he started running his fingers up and down her arm again, smooth pressure and sensation that had her wanting more. When Trixie announced she was done with her homework, it was easy enough to turn a bit while reaching for the remote until Chloe was laying half across Lucifer.

He looked down at her, amused, and she shrugged a little, smiling up at him. He let one hand come to rest on her stomach, the other gently carding through her hair. She couldn't help the pleased sound she made, a soft exhalation of breathe just shy of being a hum of contentment. While she lay there, movie starting and Trixie quickly engrossed by it, she could feel tension seeping out of him, leaving relaxation in its wake.

"Okay?" she asked quietly as he tensed when she shifted to get a little more comfortable.

"Very," he said. His eyelids had been drooping slightly, but now he looked wide awake and exhausted again.

"You can take a nap, you know," she said, glancing at Trixie who was already half asleep on a pillow on the floor. "It's alright."

But he shook his head, telling her he didn't need to sleep. It was transparent bluffing, but she let him get away with it. She should let him head home, to where he could relax and sleep. But she couldn't quite bring herself to get up, telling herself that if she was quiet and relaxed enough, if she turned down the lights a little when she got up to tuck Trixie in, maybe he would be able to sleep while she was with him.

When the movie was over, she slowly got up, hoping she wouldn't disturb the light doze he had fallen into. But he jerked awake, looking around in a panic for a moment before his eyes landed on Trixie, and then on her, and he relaxed. As he went to stand, she put her hand out.

"Wait here," she said. "I'm just putting her to bed."

Trixie, mostly asleep on the floor, didn't protest being shuffled off to bed. She did hug Lucifer tightly and told him goodnight. Chloe tucked her in, bending down to kiss her forehead before turning off the lights and quietly closing the door to her bedroom.

When she came back, Lucifer was sitting slumped on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. He didn't look up as she got closer, didn't even move as she threaded her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck and sank down to sit next to him. She stayed like that, hoping he would open up and tell her what was wrong, give her something.

When it became clear he was just going to stay there, shoulders shaking slightly, she said, "Are you really okay?"

He turned his head to look at her. His eyes were red-rimmed like he'd been crying, but dry. She let her hand trail from the back of his neck down across the edge of his jaw, resting her thumb on his chin for a moment, before dropping her hand into her lap. He looked... bereft without her touch, so she reached up again and cupped his cheek with one hand before drawing his head down so she could touch her forehead to his. He rested there, let her bear him up for a brief moment as the weight of whatever was bothering him became too heavy.

"I don't know," he said finally, his voice raw with honesty. She didn't know what to do with that, not when it was surely a conversation better suited for Linda than for her and her fumbling. Which reminded her...

"Have you talked to Linda and Amenadiel?"

He turned to look at her sharply, before shaking his head. "Not yet. I-"

When he didn't continue, she said, "I get it. It can be overwhelming, coming back from a long time away."

He nodded gratefully, and she pushed him back until he was braced against the edge of the couch and she could all but climb into his lap. He slid down a little, taking her with him, until she was straddling him, keeping her full weight off of him by bracing her arms on the arm of the couch, framing his head. He looked up at her, his eyes full of something like wonder and something like doubt.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked, instead of puzzling over what that meant.

"Any time you want, darling," he said, licking his lips, his hands coming up to hold her hips lightly.

She dropped her head, just barely low enough to brush her lips against his, soft and teasing, before pulling back a little, licking her own lips. His eyes had fluttered closed and when he opened them, there was a glint of amusement in them.

"Is that all?" he asked, his voice low.

"Not hardly," she said and bent again, brushing her nose along his but not letting her lips touch his yet.

She wanted him—oh, how she wanted him—but the waiting was delicious. The way his pupils dilated and he huffed out a laugh was just as delicious, and she couldn't stop the silly smile from spreading across her face. It was mirrored on his when she pulled back. Her heart was full of something close to joy, overshadowing the sorrow that lurked within her.

"I did this when we first met, remember?" she asked, her lips brushing against his lightly, a butterfly's touch.

"One of my most treasured memories," he said, and she pulled back sharply, ignoring the flash of hurt in his eyes.

"Me teasing you is one of your most treasured memories," she said, not quite a question. She would have thought there were so many other memories—so many other _moments_ —he would have liked more.

"Almost getting to kiss you," he corrected, reaching up and brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering.

She leaned into his touch for a moment, before bending back down and saying, "Why not replace that with much better memories," and pressed her lips firmly against his.

He groaned, a soft sound that she could almost feel more than hear. For a moment, that was all it was, a press of lips, soft movement and the sound of his pleased hum. He was following her lead—she could feel it as much as she could feel the tension coiled in him as he held back—so she nipped his bottom lip lightly and he opened underneath her.

His mouth was wet and warm and welcoming, and she let her tongue stroke against his as the kiss deepened. She could feel it all the way down to her toes when he ran his tongue over hers, along the roof of her mouth, before she needed to break away to breathe. The whimper he made when she did had her opening her eyes and smiling down at him.

She wanted to hold him close to her, wanted to feel him pressed against her, needed to feel him needing her. So she sat up, pulling him after her, before twining her arms around his neck and kissing him again. He seemed to slump against her slightly when she did, relaxing and releasing tension she hadn't realized he was carrying. She let her hands slide into his hair and he groaned against her mouth again.

Warmth pooled in her as she explored his mouth, as his hands crept up to slip the tips of his fingers under her blouse but not going any further. She could feel each individual point of pressure along her sides, heat branding her and going directly to her center. He tilted his head slightly, her fingers sliding through his hair, and he shivered against her.

She pulled back—that quiet whimper coming from him again as he blinked his eyes open, a soft haze of desire in them—and kissed the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his forehead. She trailed kisses down the side of his face before pressing an open-mouthed kiss against his neck, sucking lightly. His fingers spasmed on her sides but didn't move any higher, didn't slide up her back or around to cup her breasts, and she growled in frustration.

As she caught his mouth in a heated kiss again, she went about pulling his shirt out of his pants so she could touch skin. He helped her, shifting but never breaking contact with her, never pulling away from her lips. The way he kissed her had a quiet desperation in it, like he was trying to get all he could before she pushed him away again.

Once his shirt was free, she ran her hands up his stomach, could feel the muscles twitching at her touch. When she broke away, he chased after her lips for one more kiss before letting her go. She took one of his hands and moved it higher, and it seemed that was all he was waiting for—permission—because he immediately ran his hands up her back, holding her closer to him so they were pressed together from hip to chest.

She didn't know how long they sat like that, heated kiss matched by heated kiss, occasional detours from mouths to necks and then back. When she finally pulled back and noticed the time, she sighed and sat back slightly, letting his arms catch her.

"It's late," she said quietly, the question of if he wanted to stay on the tip of her tongue.

But he nodded, licking his kiss-swollen lips and said, "I should get back to Lux."

Oh. Well, that was okay. She slid off his lap, sitting next to him, and fixed her blouse, pulling it down in back where he'd rucked it up. When she glanced to him, he was watching her with a soft smile on his face. His hair was a mess from her hands, and he had a hickey on his neck that she was sure would fade by the time he was back at Lux. She smiled back at him and stood, pulling him to his feet after her, before going up on tiptoe to press one last kiss to him.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked, and he nodded, reach out to tuck a strand of her hair back.

"I-" he said and stopped, swallowing convulsively. "I'll be there."

She got the impression that wasn't what he had been about to say. When he left, the door closing quietly behind him, she turned and leaned back against it, touching her fingers to her lips, not able to control the smile that spread across her face. With a quiet sigh—telling herself to stop being ridiculous she was an adult for chrissake, not a love-struck teenager—she headed for bed.


	4. Chapter 4

Chloe jerked awake when it was still dark out, her heart pounding, the dream of Lucifer's warm hands on her body, his lips trailing down her back, already fading. She looked around for what had woken her, listening for Trixie, but everything was quiet.

Then her phone started to ring again.

She grabbed it and answered without checking who it was first, slightly breathless when she said, "Hello?"

"Chloe, I-" Lucifer's voice was strangled and he cut himself off with a sharp clack of teeth. She could almost feel him gritting them. His voice was calmer when he said, "I'm sorry. I- I'm sorry."

"Are you okay?" she asked, swinging her legs over so she was sitting on the side of her bed.

His hoarse chuckle wasn't quite an answer, but it was answer enough.

"Would you-" He stopped to take a deep breath and when he didn't continue, she let out a quiet, inquisitive hum before yawning. He laughed a little and said, "I should let you get back to sleep."

But his voice was hesitant, so she said, "I'm fine. What were you going to ask before?"

"It's foolish," he said instead of answering her. "I should-"

"Lucifer," she said quietly, yawning again. "I want to help you. What do you need?"

"I- Would you-" His voice sounded small and exasperated with himself when he finally asked, "Would you stay on the phone? Just for a short while? Like-"

"Like last night?" she asked, rolling back into bed to get comfortable. "Of course."

"Thank you," he breathed out, his voice shaking more than she liked.

"Of course." she said again. "Trixie was real happy that you were here tonight. She asked me when I was tucking her in when you were coming back."

He let out a short breath that might have been laughter in better circumstances. "Yes, well, she's... not nearly so bothersome now."

"Mm," she said. "She has grown, hasn't she. It feels like just yesterday I was coming home from the hospital with her."

She talked to him until the yawns that interspersed their quiet conversation became too frequent to resist, and she drifted off, phone still pressed against her ear. In the morning when she woke up, she could hear his quiet breathing on the other end, too fast and light to be asleep.

"Morning," she murmured, and he made a startled sound, like she'd woken him.

But his voice held no traces of sleep when he said, "Already?" and groaned quietly like he was stretching.

She could picture it, him naked and standing on front of the window by his bed, his lean body on display, muscles shifting under his skin as he- She shook her head, a blush rising to her cheeks. It may not have been inappropriate, given their activities last night, but she was worried about him. She shouldn't be fantasizing about him when he had woken her up two nights in a row with nightmares and clearly wasn't okay.

"Are you coming in today?" she asked, getting out of bed and stretching herself, a little squeak escaping when her back popped.

He sounded amused when he said, "Yes," and then paused for so long she thought he had hung up. Then he drawled out, "So... what are you wearing, Detective?"

She laughed, looking down at the ratty undershirt she was wearing with granny panties. "Nothing you'd be interested in."

"Au contraire," he said, his voice low and velvety. "I think you'll find I'm _very_ interested."

She laughed again, heading for the bathroom. "Believe me, you're not." She heard him take a breath as though he was about to argue the point so she hurried on with, "I need to shower. See you at the station?"

He didn't sigh, but she could almost feel him reining in the urge to argue. "Yes," he said instead, and, "I hope you think of me in the shower."

"Right," she said, her voice strangled and her cheeks flaming as the image of him naked, water droplets sliding down his skin, popped into her head. He made an interested noise, so she hurried to say goodbye and hang up, pressing her phone against her chest after she did.

He was going to be the death of her, she knew it. And she... well she certainly wouldn't be the death of him, but she'd try her best.

* * *

He followed her home again, to Trixie's delight. When he was leaving after Trixie had gone to bed, he hesitated at the door like he was about to say something, then shook his head and left. That night, he didn't wake her until four.

When he showed up at the station in the morning, he looked so disheveled she almost sent him home to sleep then and there. If she had thought it would have done any good, she would have tried. Instead, she took him along on a stakeout, hoping boredom would be enough.

It wasn't. His head nodded a couple times, but he jerked awake with a panicked look before glancing to her and breathing out long and slow each time. When they got back to the station—both of her goals fruitless—Ella took one look at him and pulled him into the lab "just for a second Decker don't worry!"

She didn't ask what they talked about when Lucifer came to find her at her desk ten minutes later. If he wanted to tell her he would. Instead he just smiled and swayed into her space like he was going to kiss her, like he was too drawn to her to stay away. But he didn't kiss her, just settled against the edge of her desk and ask with a forced calm if he could follow her home for dinner again.

Of course she said yes. When she was putting Trixie to bed later that night, Trixie asked if he was okay, and Chloe didn't know what to tell her.

"He's just going through a rough time right now, monkey," she finally said and added, even though she didn't know if it was true, "He'll be okay."

That seemed to be enough for Trixie, who fell asleep halfway through the Harry Potter chapter they were on. When Chloe went back out to the living room, Lucifer was where she had left him, on the couch, bent forward with exhaustion, his elbows on his knees and his hands dangling between his legs.

"Hey," she said, going to sit next to him, running a hand through his hair. "Do you want to just go home? You look exhausted."

He blinked at her, before nodding with something close enough to regret that she almost offered to let him stay again. But he'd already stood and was gathering his suit jacket. Before he could open the door, she pressed him against it, kissing him thoroughly just because she could.

"Get some sleep," she said as he left.

He woke her again at three, sounding so ashamed of himself she could feel her heart breaking for him. When she suggested that maybe tomorrow he could visit Linda and Amenadiel, he made a noncommittal noise and changed the subject. If she thought it would be any help, she would have asked if he had any sleeping pills on hand.

What did you do when the Devil had insomnia?

There was nothing she could do but talk to him for a bit before falling asleep herself. It galled her, that she didn't know how to help him. She wanted him to be _him_ again, not the exhausted shadow he was. The next night she woke up minutes before the phone rang, her body already getting used to the early morning calls.

She was thirsty, so as she talked over the case they were working on, trying to find a new angle of investigation, she wandered down to the kitchen to get a drink. As she stared out the window, drinking her water, she saw a car parked by the curb a few houses down. It looked like-

"Lucifer," she said, her voice flat. "Is that you?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, before he said a simple, tense, "Yes."

"Why didn't you-" She made a frustrated noise. "Come inside."

She watched as he slid out of the car and strolled down the sidewalk slowly, following her order but clearly reluctant to do it. She met him at the door and pulled him inside, going up on tiptoe to give him a quick, light kiss when worry flashed across his face.

"What are you _doing_?" she asked, leaving him there and going to get her water. When she came back, he was standing in the same spot, just inside the door. She sighed and said, under her breath, "What am I going to do with you."

It must not have been quiet enough because he flinched, looking pained. "I- Sometimes, if I'm near you, I can-" He grimaced, half turning toward the door. "I'll just- It doesn't matter. I'll go back to Lux."

She got in front of him before he could open the door, pushing him back a little, further into the house. She thought she understood, could see where he was going with it.

So she asked, "Would it be better if you slept on the couch?"

He leered, but his heart didn't seem to be in it and exhaustion was creeping around the corners when he said, "I can think of _many_ better things to do on the couch." She just stared at him, waiting, until he said, shameful and quiet, "Yes."

"Yeah, okay," she said, and enjoyed his blink of surprise before she continued with, "I'll get you a blanket and a pillow."

When she came back, bedding in hand, he was sitting hunched over on the edge of the couch, shoes off and shirt collar loosened. He looked miserable. She sighed and sat down next to him, leaning into him a little, one hand going up to card through his hair. The breath he let out was short but relieved, and he leaned into her touch.

"Oh, babe," she said quietly and asked, an invitation to her bed—just to sleep—on the tip of her tongue, "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm sure," he said, and turned to look at her, a smile touching the edges of his lips. "I- Thank you, Detective."

She hummed in acknowledgment and stood to go to bed, stopping to press a brief kiss against his forehead. "Get some sleep."

When she took one last look back at him, he had slumped again, defeat in every line of his body, and was rubbing his hand over his eyes. God but she hoped he would get some rest. They would have to talk about just why he was lurking outside her house—why he couldn't sleep—but that could wait until he'd actually gotten some.

She thought she would fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but she couldn't stop going around in her head, trying to figure out why he hadn't just come to her, why he couldn't sleep at Lux, what was going on. She was worried for him, remembering the last time he'd been like this, when his brother... Had something happened while he was in Hell?

No, of course something happened while he was in Hell. How could it not? It was Hell. But had someone... Fuck. She'd talk to him about it tomorrow. Maybe press him to go see Linda instead of coming to work with her. He needed rest more than she needed him with her.

Sleep was a long time coming.

* * *

In the morning, Chloe woke to the sound of Trixie yelling, "Pancakes!"

She pulled her bathrobe on and ventured forth to the kitchen, to see what they were up to. Lucifer stood at the stove, a pan on it and a pile of pancakes next to it. He'd clearly set Trixie about setting the table, because there was no way she would be doing that without someone asking.

She stood in the entrance for a moment, just watching the way Lucifer expertly flipped a pancake, wondering how long he'd been up. The line of his shoulders still held exhaustion in them, but she supposed one night of good sleep wasn't going to do much.

"Mom!" Trixie said when she finally noticed her. "Lucifer's making pancakes!"

"So I see," Chloe said, forcing a smile when Lucifer turned around while she took in how incredibly not better he looked. She went and pressed a kiss to his cheek, murmuring, "Good morning."

"It certainly is," he said. At least he sounded less tired, the warmth infusing his voice an almost physical thing that filled her with a quiet contentment.

When she went to move away, he reached out and caught her waist with his free arm, pulling her closer to him. "That wasn't much of a good morning kiss," he said playfully.

She laughed and stepped away anyway, his arm falling from her waist easily. "I haven't brushed my teeth yet. Will these keep while I take a quick shower?"

He looked disappointed, but nodded. "Take as long as you like, darling."

When she turned, Trixie was looking absolutely delighted. Crap, she'd forgotten her daughter was in the room. She hadn't figured out how to tell Trixie that they might be dating. She hadn't even figured out how to bring up the question to Lucifer.

"Are you guys _dating_?"

Chloe... didn't know how to answer that question. They hadn't talked about it in the scant number of days he'd been back. They'd kissed—quite a bit—but never talked about what that meant in the broader scheme of things.

When she looked up, Lucifer was watching her as he said, "I think so."

Oh. That was easy. "Yeah, monkey, we are. Is that okay?"

"It's awesome," Trixie said, her eyes wide and bright with glee.

Good. Chloe had worried how Trixie would react to her dating someone who wasn't Dan. They separated and were divorced years ago, and Trixie had never shown a single sign since then of hoping they would get back together. But that was different from actively knowing that your mother had found someone who wasn't your father. If she was okay with this, Chloe wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Okay, well, I'm going to shower," she said, a bubbly feeling filling her chest as it sunk it that yes, they were dating, and this meant that yes, Lucifer probably still loved her. "Be good."

Trixie rolled her eyes and Lucifer smirked, and Chloe was kind of worried what disaster she was going to come back to. But the shower was calling her name, and she could kiss Lucifer as much as she wanted after it.

In the end, it was a fair deal, even if they did make a disaster and the counters were covered in flour when she got back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O RITE THIS IS WHY I DON'T DO DAILY UPDATES ughhhh I'm sorry you guys. My brain is bad at remembering things like "I need to wake up later to post a chapter."

Lucifer had to go back to Lux to get ready for the day, which was fine with her. She wasn't sure what the department policy was on dating consultants—looking it up had always felt like bad luck—and sure, Lucifer could probably charm his way into still working with her, but she still wasn't sure if she was ready to show up to work together yet.

After work, he hovered by her car, looking like he wanted to ask her something but not able to get it out. She took an educated guess and asked, "Do you want to sleep on the couch again?"

His shoulders seemed to sag in relief. "If you don't mind."

She smiled softly at him, reaching up to cup his cheeks and draw his head down so she could press her forehead against his. "Let's make a deal," she said into the space between them and he stiffened but didn't say anything. "How about you just sleep over until you're feeling better, and I won't make you ask, okay?"

"Seems like you're getting the short end of the stick there," he said, his voice rough.

She laughed a little, a quick puff of breath, and said, "I'm really not. I've slept on that couch. I know how uncomfortable it is."

He pulled back a little and she dropped her hands. He was looking at her uncomprehendingly. "It may not be a king-sized bed but it's hardly the worst place I've slept."

She could feel her heart breaking at that, a sharp pain in her chest that almost took her breath away. How bad _was_ Hell if he could say that about a couch that was too short for him and had a spring that poked your kidney when you were laying there?

He seemed to realize what he'd said, and his eyes were begging her not to ask, so she let it go, as much as she didn't want to. She wanted to know what he'd gone through, know how she could help him, know what he needed. Letting him sleep on her couch didn't seem enough.

"Do you need to do anything at Lux?" she asked instead of pressing. "Or should I set an extra plate for dinner?"

"I'll follow you back to yours, if that's alright. I have a bag."

"Presumptuous," she said with a soft smile.

"Hopeful," he countered and how could she _not_ pull him down to kiss him thoroughly at that?

He hummed into her mouth, a pleased sound, and let her kiss him until they were both panting for breath and his eyes were glazed with a haze of desire. The sound of a door slamming seemed to bring him back to the present, though, and he stepped away, much to her remorse.

"Okay," she said, licking her lips and delighted by the way his eyes followed the motion. "See you in a few."

"Until then," he murmured. When she looked back as she drove away, he was sitting in his car, his fingers touching his lips, an almost dopey smile on his face. A mirroring smile was on her own and it just grew wider seeing that. It was good to know that he was just as affected as her.

* * *

They fell into a pattern Chloe would have thought would be making things better. He slept on the couch more nights than not, and she had a sneaking suspicion that on those nights he didn't, he ended up parked down the street anyway. He didn't call her anymore, but on those mornings he looked hollow-eyed and beyond exhausted. She was surprised he wasn't falling asleep in the middle of work.

He wasn't looking better either. If anything, he'd gotten worse even as some of his things started to migrate to her house. She'd never seen so many hair products in one place, and the amount of time he spent in the bathroom rivaled Trixie.

She, at least, seemed to be handling the change well. Most mornings, when Chloe woke up, they were both already awake and in the kitchen while Lucifer made breakfast. It was a miracle, considering how hard it was to get Trixie out of bed before he started staying over. Chloe couldn't help but wonder how long it was going to last. Her baby was growing up so fast, and her teenage years were coming like a freight train.

When she pulled Trixie aside one morning to make sure she wasn't waking Lucifer up—the only other explanation she could think of for why he wasn't looking better was that he just still wasn't sleeping—Trixie had given her a disgusted look and denied it.

"He's always up when I get up, Mom." Then she looked around, as if checking to see no one was nearby, and whispered, "I don't think angels sleep."

"He's not an angel, monkey," Chloe said, wondering how long it was going to take before Trixie realized that angels and demons didn't really exist, and then they were going to have to have a long conversation about how, actually, they did.

But Trixie just gave her another disgusted look and said, "The Devil used to be an angel, everyone knows that."

Chloe couldn't stop herself from laughing. "Okay, good point. Just don't wake him up, alright? He needs his sleep."

When they were cuddling on the couch later that day—Lucifer was a cuddler, who would have guessed?—she brushed her fingers underneath his eyes, over the dark hollows, and asked, "Sleeping okay?"

He pressed a kiss against the side of her head, and then her fingers when her hand drifted down the side of his face. "No need to worry about me, darling."

"Okay, but I still do," she said, sighing and leaning into him further.

He looked slightly confused at that, like he couldn't imagine anyone ever worrying about him if they weren't forced to by a sense of duty or God's will. She wanted to lean up and kiss him and tell him she'd always worried about him, ever since she first saw his scars. But he looked... fragile with lack of sleep. She didn't want to break him with kind words.

"Why don't you lay down anyway?" she said instead, patting her lap a little. He looked at her, his eyes lighting up the way they did when he was about to say something rude, and she laughed before he could. "Shush, just lay down."

He did—he always did what she asked when they were alone like this—and looked up at her with hollow eyes.

"This isn't going to work, Detective," he said even as he blinked slowly.

"Humor me," she said, cupping his cheek and running her thumb lightly under his eyes. "You don't even have to close your eyes. Just... let me take care of you. I can put the TV on if you want."

He reached up, running the backs of his knuckles down the side of her face in a soft caress. His voice was quiet, tinged with something old and sad as he said, "I could watch you for a thousand years and still not have my fill."

"Okay, Romeo," she said through a smile as she blushed. His smile turned a little smug at that and she smacked his shoulder gently. "Just relax for a while."

She started to comb her fingers through his hair, soothing and slow, her other hand staying on the side of his face. His eyes fluttered closed briefly before they opened again, shining with contentment. She smiled down at him, hoping he could see in her face how happy she was to do this for him. How she would gladly sit on the couch with him just softly _touching_ every night until the end of time.

After a couple minutes of her thumb brushing back and forth over his cheekbone, she moved that hand to his chest. He frowned slightly when she stopped touching him, but relaxed again as her hand found his chest and settled there, not moving. Something told her—maybe the look in his eyes, maybe the little sigh he let out—that the weight of it over his heart was comforting. She kept slowly running her fingers through his hair, sometimes using her fingernails to scritch over his scalp, sometimes just letting the soft pads of her fingertips smooth through his hair.

He stretched like a cat before nestling further into her lap, getting comfortable and relaxing by degrees until he was blinking sleepily at her, his eyes adoring. Her smile had softened into something gentle and loving as she looked down on him.

"What're you doing to me," he mumbled sleepily, but didn't move, didn't try to sit up and wake up more. "You've turned the Devil into... into..."

"I've turned the Devil into nothing," she said, rubbing the hand on his chest back and forth a little, only a tiny step removed from petting him. "You've always been like this, under it all."

He hummed sleepily, noncommittally, and she could feel an infinite fondness filling her up and coloring her smile. His eyes fluttered closed before he visibly forced them open again, and she shushed him, bending down to lay a gentle kiss against his forehead.

"It's okay," she breathed against the skin of his forehead before sitting up again. "I've got you. I'll be here when you wake up."

He made a discontent noise, a denial of some kind, though if it meant he didn't think he'd be okay or that he didn't think she'd be there when he woke up, she didn't know. He blinked his eyes open once more, but they were glassy with sleep and he was fading back into it almost before he got them all the way open.

She kept up the motion of her fingers in his hair until she was sure he really was asleep and then slowly stopped and withdrew her hand, breathing a sigh of relief. She didn't know how long he would stay asleep, but it had to be better than nothing, which she was pretty sure was what he was still getting. It was just... too convenient that he was awake every morning early enough to have breakfast ready for her when she got up. Too convenient that he was always wide awake when she went to bed.

She let the tension flow out of her limbs and relaxed deeper into the couch, letting her breath match Lucifer's slow breathing. She could use a nap, too. And if Lucifer slept until morning, well. There were worse ways to spend a night.

* * *

Chloe woke with a start, automatically reaching to check the time only to realize she wasn't in her bed. Right. That explained why her neck hurt. She was still on the couch with Lucifer sleeping, head in her lap. What had-

Lucifer made a soft, distressed noise, his face scrunching up briefly before it smoothed out. Was this why he wasn't sleeping? Was he still having nightmares?

He made the noise again, so she threaded her fingers through his hair, shaking the cotton out of her head, and started humming quietly, a soft nonsense song she used to hum to Trixie when she couldn't sleep. It seemed to help for a moment, but then he made the noise again, his face screwing up in what she realized was fear. What did the big bad Devil have to be afraid of? What happened in his nightmares?

He made another noise, low and distressed and twisted in her lap.

"Shh," she said, dragging her fingers through his hair gently. "Shh, it's okay."

He quieted for a moment, then twisted, nearly falling off the couch, and made a noise that was dangerously close to a sob. Her hand froze for a moment, and then she moved to shake his shoulder gently. He twitched away from her, mumbling something she couldn't quite catch.

"Lucifer," she said, grabbing his shoulder and shaking again. "Wake up. You're having a bad dream."

He whimpered, a quiet sound that made her heart hurt, and twisted his head back and forth. She shook him harder, and he suddenly shot up with a hoarse moan, gasping in breath and shaking. When she reached for him and touched his back with featherlight fingers, he whirled around, snarling and didn't seem to recognize her for a moment. She shrank back against the edge of the couch, her heart pounding.

She wasn't scared, just startled. She knew Lucifer, knew he wouldn't hurt her. That no matter what happened her physical being was safe with him. But her movement seemed to bring him back to himself and his face crumpled. He scooted away from her, already apologizing.

Before he got too far she had grabbed his hand and was pulling him back toward her.

"Hey, it's okay," she said, wrapping him in a hug. "You just startled me. You were having a nightmare."

He made a noncommittal noise, tense within her grip. He could—he _would_ —pull away if he didn't want her to touch him, so she just ran one hand up and down his back, waiting. He suddenly relaxed against her with a shuddering exhale, and buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, breathing in deeply.

She let him and kept moving her hand soothingly over his back, avoiding the places where his scars had been even knowing she didn't have to anymore because they weren't there. After a minute or two of just breathing with him, she pulled back just a little just enough to press a kiss to the side of his head.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shuddered. "Not particularly, no."

She wanted to press, wanted to find out what he found so terrifying, but he turned his head, pressing a kiss to her neck that was clearly meant to distract her, so she let herself be distracted, turning her head to catch his lips. She kissed him until he was panting from something other than fear, kissed him until he stopped shaking against her. Then she pulled back, making him whine a bit in disappointment, and continued her questioning.

"Is this why you're not sleeping?"

He eyed her warily and said, "Part of it," before leaning forward, attempting to kiss her again.

But she turned her head so his lips landed on her cheek. When he sat back he just watched her with red-rimmed and resigned eyes. She reached out, touching his cheek with the tips of her fingers before sliding her hand down and back to thread her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. You don't have to try to distract me."

"Oh but what a pleasurable distraction it would be for both of us," he said, grinning wickedly at her.

She gave him a laugh for that, but put her hand on his chest, stopping him when he leaned forward again. He sat back with a pout, and she wondered if maybe it was _himself_ he was trying to distract. It was late and she was tired, but she didn't want to leave him for bed. A part of her thought she should just invite him up to sleep with her, but she was positive he would take it the wrong way, misinterpret what she meant. As much as she desperately wanted to- to make love with him, she didn't want their first time to be a distraction.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" she asked instead.

"What kind of movie are you suggesting, Detective?" he asked, so she swatted his arm, then lifted it so she could snuggle underneath it. She thought maybe she heard a sigh of relief from him when she did so she looked up to find him looking down at her.

"Thank you," he murmured and held her closer. "A movie sounds lovely."

She meant to stay awake with him, to maybe try to lull him back to sleep, but she found herself drifting off almost before they got through the main credits, secure in his embrace. Her last thought was wishing he felt as secure in hers.

* * *

On Trixie's first night back with Dan, Chloe woke up to screaming.

It cut off with a choked sob before she managed to get out of bed, and then dead silence surrounded her as she stumbled out to where Lucifer was sitting, hunched over, on the couch. Her quick visual check of the room confirmed they were alone, so she went and dropped down next to him. He shrank away from her, and she realized he was shaking.

"Hey," she said, not reaching out to touch him, not yet. He looked like he would spook if she did, his eyes closed and his body tensed as if for a blow.

So she sat with him as he shook, as he hid his face from her, bending over from where he was sitting and covering it with his hands. She didn't think he was crying, but couldn't quite tell.

He stood abruptly, breathing hard and still not facing her. "I should go," he said.

Then he just stood, waiting her judgment. She eased her way around him, moving to stand in front of him where she could see his face. His eyes were squeezed closed, lines etched in his forehead, and his mouth was trembling.

"Do you want to?" she asked softly. She ached to reach out to him, to touch his cheek and smooth the lines on his forehead, to snuggle under his arm and hope he would let her take some of the weight he seemed to carry around constantly now.

"You need to be able to sleep," he said with a humorless laugh, finally opening his eyes and it scared her how empty they seemed, "and it seems I'm- I won't be-"

"I don't care about that," she told him, trying to catch his eye as his gaze flicked around the room. She didn't feel she needed at add, _I care about you_.

He didn't respond, and she realized he wasn't looking _around_ the room, he was trying not to look at Trixie's door. Her stomach sunk as she realized what he might be dreaming about, why he couldn't—wouldn't—sleep and why he wanted to be close to her.

"Are we in danger?"

There was a long pause, a stricken look, and then Lucifer said, "I don't… think so?"

"Okay," she said, relief tasting sour as he kept looking around.

"I-" he said, swallowing hard and finally, finally meeting her gaze. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I know," she said. "Why don't we sit down."

He paused and she held her breath, waiting to see if he was going to say no and leave. But he finally exhaled and nodded a little. He slowly sat down and leaned back, visibly trying to force himself to relax. It didn't go well. She could still see fine tremors running through his hands every so often. She sat next to him, leaving some space between them. When he looked at the space, his mouth thinned and he looked to her with a deep sadness in his eyes.

She didn't know what he was thinking, just that the space clearly bothered him, so she slid closer, slow and easy, giving him time to move away if he wanted to. But he just lifted his arm with a sigh of relief, letting her lean against him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"Not…" he swallowed, casting a nervous glance down to her. "Not yet."

"Alright," she said and pulled his arm more tightly around her, nestling into his side. She ran a hand up the back of his neck and buried it in his hair, scratching gently. As she repeated the soothing motion, she could feel him starting to relax.

"Is it okay if I stay with you?" she asked, and his chuckle was less strained this time.

"Thank you, darling," he murmured into her hair, pressing a kiss to her head and then leaning his cheek there. She hoped maybe he would be able to sleep a little better with her next to him. Before long, she drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaaa here we are!!! The final chapter!!! I'm not even going to try to pretend that I'll remember to post it tonight, so y'all get it this morning. I hope you enjoy the shit out of it, at least as much as I enjoyed writing it.

When Dan dropped Trixie off a few days later, Chloe wasn't sure how she was going to explain the screaming to her. Lucifer had woken her almost every night that Trix was gone with a hoarse shout of pain, or grief, or _whatever_ wasn't letting him sleep.

When she carefully broached the subject with Trixie, her smart little monkey just gave her a look and said, "I know what nightmares are, Mom."

Chloe decided to leave it at that.

Something woke her in the early hours of the morning, something other than Lucifer screaming. She wasn't sure what it was, but it had her sitting up with a gasp out of a dead sleep. The house was silent around her. She tried to decide if that meant he was still sleeping, if going to check on him would wake him up, if she _cared_.

There was a chill about her, something that made her skin erupt in goosebumps that were taking their sweet time going away. She shook her head a little, the remnants of a dark dream fading away before she could grasp what they were about. Maybe that was what had woken her; maybe her subconscious was on her side for once.

Maybe she _hadn't_ been dreaming about Lucifer being gone again, being dragged back to Hell screaming for her. She hadn't had that nightmare in a while, but it always left her feeling shaky.

Even if he was sleeping, even if she was about to wake him up, she needed to go check to make sure he was still there, she decided. Maybe she would invite him back to her bed finally. Maybe it would be just to sleep, but maybe…

She threw on a robe and crept out of her bedroom on silent feet. Lucifer was sitting up on the couch, a book in his hands, but he didn't look like he was actually reading it. He was definitely awake, though, so she went and sat next to him with a sigh.

"Detective," he said evenly, the exhaustion well-hidden behind his voice. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She leaned against him and he lifted an arm, positioning her more securely against his side. "Couldn't sleep. I figured I'd come see if you couldn't either."

He huffed out a short laugh at that. "It seems sleeping well just isn't in my future for the moment."

"How come?" she asked quietly. "I know you said we weren't in any danger, but are you? Is that why…" She drifted off, waiting. As the silence stretched out, she regretted asking him, but couldn't help tensing when the simple "no" she'd wanted didn't come. Still, "You don't have to-"

"I couldn't seal the exits," he said, interrupting her, his voice low and strained. "I spent-" he huffed out another breath that might have been a laugh "-I don't know how long trying to find a way. Years. Decades."

She swallowed, a hundred words sticking in her throat.

"At first I just wanted to watch over you. Make sure my solution didn't have any holes in its security. Staying awake a few days at a time isn't a problem for me, but then-"

She felt the shudder run through his body and he fell silent. When she looked up at him he was staring off into the distance, his face pale, and his knuckles were white where he clutched the book in one hand.

"What was your solution?" she asked finally, when it seemed he wasn't going to say any more. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

"A trial, of sorts," he said, meeting her gaze finally with a smile that held no good humor. "A labyrinth, with a thousand exits back to Hell but only one heavily guarded one to here. I tested it with my strongest demons. Not a one made it out. Not a one survived to come back to Hell with their sanity fully intact."

An awful feeling started growing in her stomach as he looked away. His hand on her was gentle, but the one holding the book had dented the cover and his fingers looked like they were about to sink through the pages. Or crush the paper back into the tree it came from.

"It was quite ingenious, really," he continued. "Each level of the labyrinth takes the traveler deeper into their worst fear, worst nightmare. They live through it over and over again, each time more intense than the last. I-"

He broke off with a strangled noise, his fingers spasming on her arm, gripping tightly for a moment before letting go. She was going to have a bruise there tomorrow.

"You built a shortcut for yourself though, right?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

He shook his head slowly, letting her go entirely and dropping the book in order to clasp his hands together, knuckles white.

"I knew the route to the true exit, but I still had to walk it. I-" He shook his head, his cheeks wet.

She wanted to hold him, to offer him comfort she wasn't sure he felt he deserved. But he had pulled away from her, curling in on himself. When she reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, he flinched away from her before gasping an apology.

"I sent in a legion of demons to test it once I was certain everything was- They all made it back to Hell eventually, and I executed every one. Just to be safe, you see." His laugh was mirthless. "They needed to be remember who the King of Hell was, and I reminded them. They won't be forgetting for a long time, I imagine."

"Oh, babe," she said, turning enough that she could pull him into a hug, unable to resist anymore. He went stiff for a moment before slumping against her, the sudden weight of him almost knocking her backward. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head against her shoulder. "They were only demons. My best after Mazikeen, but still only demons. But when- When I was certain- After the last, I left. I walked through that labyrinth and watched you and- and the urchin die a hundred thousand times in a hundred thousand different ways and I can't get it out of my head. I can't, Chloe, every time I close my eyes, I- and then you're not- and Beatrice-"

He was shuddering against her and she held him tighter to her, one hand running up and down his back even though she knew it could do little to soothe him. It was the least she could do; it was all she could do.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his hair. "I'm so sorry."

"I would do it again," he said, his voice thick. "I would do it however many times I had to, to get back to you."

"I know," she said, her heart too big and her chest too small to contain everything she was feeling. She pressed a hard kiss against the side of his head. "I know."

She untangled herself from him and he let her go with clear reluctance, turning his face away to hide the wetness of his eyes from her. She stood and pulled him up after her, then stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss against his cheek.

"Babe, come to bed with me," she said, taking his hand and stepping away. "Come rest. Maybe…"

He was watching her, his eyes red-rimmed with a grief she couldn't begin to understand, but a wonder slowly growing in them and his face slack in a way that made something warm turn lazily in her stomach. She smiled at him, stepping backward and pulling him after her. He followed docilely, but his grip on her hand was tight with anxiety.

"I don't know if I'll be of much use to you, darling," he said, sounding hesitant and pausing in the doorway to her bedroom.

She cast an exasperated look back to him and tugged his hand, gently until he came forward. "You're here to try to sleep," she said before raising on her tiptoes and giving him a gentle kiss. "That's it."

"Oh," he said, and a bit of light died in his eyes, so she added, "For now."

" _Oh_ ," he said, the light coming back. But he still looked uncertain. "I still don't know if- I'll only keep you awake."

"That's okay," she said, and turned them so she could push him gently down onto the bed. "Just lay down anyway."

He didn't look convinced, but did as she said, laying there stiffly as she curled around him, prodding him until he rolled onto his side so she could be the big spoon.

"It's alright," she said, running her hand slowly up and down his side, soothing him into relaxing inch by inch. "You don't even have to close your eyes, just rest."

"If you wanted to get me horizontal, Detective," he said and yawned widely before finishing with, "all you had to do was ask."

She huffed out a laugh, pausing her movement for a moment only to resume when he made a discontented noise. They lay like that for a while, both of them awake, but not talking, Chloe breathing softly and slowly, trying to get him to do the same.

After a while he nodded off, his breathing deepening and his body relaxing, but it only lasted a few minutes before he jerked awake with a tiny, broken noise.

"Are you sure you don't-" he rasped.

She didn't let him finish before saying, "I don't."

He kept doing it, nodding off and then jerking away, sometimes more violently than others. Occasionally he would offer to go back to the couch, but she continued to shut him down. She wanted him there, even if it meant neither of them were going to sleep. She wanted him to get at least one night where he could wake up and immediately know that she as safe. She wanted-

"Would it help if Trixie was here too?" she asked quietly.

He made a noncommittal noise and said, "You shouldn't wake her on my account, darling. I'll be fine."

"Yeah, okay," she said and sat up. "I'll be right back."

His lack of protest was telling. So she went back out and to Trixie's room and knelt beside her bed, gently shaking her awake.

"Mom?" she asked, still half asleep.

"Hey monkey," Chloe said, sitting back on her heels. "Lucifer's having a hard time right now-"

"I know that, Mom." Trixie sounded exasperated, even half asleep.

"And," Chloe said, emphasizing the word, "it might help him sleep if we were both there. Want to come sleep in my bed for the rest of the night?"

"Okay," Trixie said, heaving a sigh and pushing herself up.

God but Chloe loved her.

Trixie trailed her up to her bedroom, and when they went in, the first thing Chloe saw was Lucifer, awake and sitting up on the edge of the bed. His fingers were digging into the mattress and he was breathing hard, and her heart broke for him.

"Oh, babe," she said quietly as she gently pushed Trixie toward the other side of the bed.

Trixie, for her part, climbed into bed and almost immediately was asleep again, in that way kids had. If only it were going to be that easy to get Lucifer to get some sleep.

"I-" he started, his voice choked, but she shook her head.

"Lay back down," she said, going to stand in front of him. He shook his head, his arms coming up to clutch her as he shook. She could feel his heart beating hard and rabbit fast as he pressed against her. "It's alright. We're both here. Lay down."

He did, reluctantly, and Trixie immediately rolled over into his side. He looked surprised at that, which had Chloe laughing quietly. "She's an octopus when she sleeps."

She climbed back into bed, spooning up behind him again, her hand going back to his side. She could feel him relaxing by degrees until he was lax against her. She slowly stopped moving her hand and shifted her arm to be around his middle. It put her head in an awkward spot but she didn't care. She pressed against him as much as she possibly could, and slowly drifted off into sleep.

* * *

Chloe woke with a start at her alarm and quickly smacked it off with one hand, the other trapped underneath Lucifer's body. He made a grumbling noise but when she craned her neck to catch a glimpse of his face, he was still asleep. They had shifted during the night, her on her back and Lucifer cuddled up to her so his head rested over her heart. She could just see Trixie to the other side of him, her back to his, still sound asleep.

Chloe didn't want to wake him, but needed to call the station and school; a day off for the three of them wasn't going to hurt anyone and might do Lucifer good. Carefully, slowly, she eased out from under him, then grabbed up her phone and crept to the door.

She made the two calls quickly as she searched for her tablet. She was up for the day, but that didn't mean she couldn't read in bed while Lucifer slept beside her. In fact, it sounded like a nice way to spend the morning.

Back in her room, he was starting to stir one hand stretching across the bed, a slight frown on his face. She couldn't have been gone for more than five minutes. Before she could reach the bed, he was shooting up—an unhappy whine coming from where Trixie had buried herself in blankets—and looking around wildly before his eyes landed on her.

"Hey," she said, going over and sliding into the bed next to him, propping herself up on the headboard. "I was just calling in so we have a day off."

"I don't need-" he started, but she shushed him and he changed tactics. "If you're up we should-"

She shushed him again. "You look like you could still use a few hours."

He grimaced and ran a hand through his curls. "You don't have to do this, Detective."

"I know," she said, crooking a half smile at him. When was he going to learn that she knew she didn't have to take care of him, but that didn't mean she was going to stop? "Why don't you lay down again."

He stared at her for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. She turned before he could move away and caught his lips with hers. She didn't deepen the kiss—morning breath was morning breath, devil or human—but poured as much affection as she could into the chaste press of lips.

When he finally sat back, he was smiling, a soft expression that made her want to kiss him again. She held herself back, instead reaching out to cup his cheek. He turned into her touch, pressing a kiss into her palm, still smiling.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he said quietly, "but I'll endeavor to keep doing it, whatever it is."

"Just keep being yourself," she said before dropping her hand to his shoulder and pressing lightly. "Now go back to sleep. I'll be here, and Trixie will sleep for another few hours if I let her."

"Thank you," he said, and when she furrowed her brow in confusion, he added, "For putting up with me."

"Oh," she said. "It's hardly a trial. Not when it's you." She paused, taking note of the sly grin spreading over his face, and pointed a finger at him. "No. Do not take that as an excuse to be even more annoying at work. _That's_ a trial."

He darted forward and kissed the tip of her finger. The sleep seemed to have done him good, even if it was only a few hours. "I'll keep that in mind."

She sighed and shook her head with a smile that she couldn't quite banish from her lips. "You're impossible. Go back to sleep."

He stayed where he was for a moment, smiling and eyes bright through the exhaustion still pinching at the corners. Then he lay back down, head at her hip, one arm thrown across her thighs.

"Is this alright?" he asked quietly.

She ran her fingers through his hair, gently scritching his scalp. His tousled hair and soft smile made quite the picture, and her throat was suddenly tight. They couldn't do this every night, but hopefully the nights they could it would help.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, it is."

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on [tumblr](https://someoneasgoodasyou.tumblr.com/)!


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